Roll for Hit Points:
Edit: Lol. I have this weird mix of "Yay!" and "Wait, I don't get to use my bonus blessing hitpoint?"
Ah, well... ridiculous to think I would be happier with something lower just because I get to add one to it... 10 it is!
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"Thank you for allowing me to recover my strength," Pyotr speaks solemnly as the two halves of Arith-Zind fall to the floor. "Perhaps, when Urgathoa comes to consume you in death, you can stall her as well. Tell her the story of how you ultimately fell to the blade of 'the Bellknight'."
I hadn't thought of that...
Pyotr spins the glaive into an aggressive guard. He circles opposite Alagor, though he holds no compunction about striking the first blow against the abomination.
Pyotr grips his glaive more tightly, readying himself for what may follow Alagor's refusal...
"Yet, even a relic of a dead god is enough to send your master to his tomb. Aroden's shield, The Shield of Arnisant, is embedded in the Tyrant's hand, and holy fire rains upon him if he steps from beneath Great Seal of Gallowspire." "Stall no more. Tell us your tale, or give us leave to hunt the tomb mote."
"I will tell you tales of true deeds, if you wish. Eleven tales of deeds greater than any man could ever boast of. Would you truly care to hear such tales?" The Acts of Iomedae:
First: She slew the fell beast Nakorshor’mond and cut the still-sleeping bodies of her circle from its gullets.
Second: She defeated a coven of Garundi witches, freeing the city of Eleder from their tyranny. Third: While riding a griffon in an aerial battle, she cut the wings from Segruchen the Iron Gargoyle, so-called King of the Barrowood, then slew him in his falling-crater before he could flee. Fourth: With heartfelt words and a prayer to Arazni, she convinced a regiment of mortally wounded knights at the Second Battle of Encarthan to hold back a wave of wraiths long enough for reinforcements to arrive at dawn to save them. Fifth: She smote Erum-Hel, Lord of the Morghs, at the Battle of Three Sorrows (where the Whispering Tyrant returned Arazni’s body to the Knights of Ozem), causing him to flee, crippled, to Orv. Sixth: After the Whispering Tyrant used magic to break her sword, she fused it together with a prayer and an oath to bring an end to his evil, her pure heart and righteous ire reforging it in an instant. Seventh: An image of Iomedae appeared at a shrine to Aroden in Absalom, healing anyone virtuous who touched it and burning wicked folk who came too near. When she later became a goddess, the shrine was expanded into a temple dedicated to her, named the Seventh Church. Eighth: She convinced the graveknight known only as the Black Prince to throw himself upon his sword as punishment for his evil. This reversed his undead state, redeeming his soul and allowing him to be judged in the Halls of Aroden. Ninth: She gave nine drops of her blood to free nine righteous knights imprisoned by the vampire-mage Basilov; she and the knights then slew him when he attempted to recapture them. Tenth: She ruled the city of Kantaria for a year and a day while its lord, heirless patriarch of House Narikopolous, was missing; the city prospered despite constant attacks by shapechanging horrors, which she battled personally. Eleventh: At the Pit of the Starstone in Absalom, she cast her cloak of common wool before her. It straightened and expanded to become a firm walkway across the gap, allowing her to enter the Cathedral and take the Test.
Pyotr gulps down the concoction that Pellius offers him, feeling nearly immediate relief to the worst of his wounds. He leans heavily on the haft of the glaive, understanding that his body is still grievously injured. Pyotr limps near to Bonegrit and whispers, "Perhaps if one or two were to stay and indulge this... thing's... idle fancies, the others would be free to hunt down the tomb mote. If we are not to end this creature, I would soonest be free of its odious presence. I will stay with Delkaneth and watch the wight. The mote would likely see me coming from the tunnel entrance."
Pyotr collects and tethers his warhammer back to his waist. He then picks up his discarded shield and straps it around his shoulder. He continues to apply pressure to his chin and abdomen to staunch the bleeding, though his armor padding had managed to seal the worst of the wounds.
"He does not lie. There is at least a company past those walls." Pyotr says as he returns to his position flanking the wight. "The mote is there as well, though it quickly disappeared into the darkness." He leans in to Pellius and whispers, "I do not believe he has quite the control he claims over these... soldiers. Else why fight us himself? There is more than enough to bring us down."
Down the Tunnel:
“Well, Master Pyotr..." "My name," Pyotr stands straight, as though electrified, "is not for your unholy tongue." The warhammer falls hard to the floor as Pyotr draws his glaive. The silver chime rings clearly, echoing its peal against the stone walls. While the wight stares hungrily at Alagor's sword, Pyotr edges back towards the tunnel. He stares down its length as far as his vision will carry in the darkness. "I yearn for word that Tar-Baphon stirs and hasten to hear what orders he might have for me... They await their Tyrant’s command." "Your master is fallen, entombed beneath the Great Seal of Gallowspire with the heart of the Shattered Shield embedded in his palm. Yearn all you wish... the Tyrant's face will never see the sun, lest holy fire rain down and consume him."
Pyotr slowly forces himself back to his feet, cradling his split chin with one hand, while weakly raising the warhammer to a guard with the other. He half paces, half stumbles a few paces to further flank the wight, even as the skeleton withdraws from further attacks. "'... this garrison?'" the half-orc mocks. "I see one soldier and his captain." The sour derision in the Vigilant's voice is thickened by the relative weakness of his tone and the blood-drunk slurring of his words. "What soldiers have you to command?"
It seems like the DM re-opened the door to negotiations, and it looks just wide enough for a Lastwall Iomedaean Paladin to slip through. <_< , >_> That's only if you guys want to talk, though...
"I will... never... fall... to one such as YOU!" Pyotr circles away from the clawing skeleton, swinging his hammer back to the ready for a brief moment before sinking weakly to one knee. "Nonsense... meaningless threats..." the bloodied half-orc pants. "What soldiers have you left?" He gestures towards the lone, weaponless skeleton.
Pyotr gasps as he feels his life's blood draining under his armor, and something else... more sinister... draining his life force. He struggles through it, forcing himself to put all his considerable weight into a final blow. "I will... never... fall... to one such as YOU!"
Pyotr spins from his skeleton, avoiding the swing of the wight's greatsword. "Lady, grant me your power!" he shouts as he turns his hammer on the wight.
Pyotr quicksteps to the side, placing one of the skeletons in the killzone between him and Delkaneth. He continues his more measured approach, wary of the second skeleton, and carefully watching the movement of the wight.
Pyotr steps away from the flanking skeleton, taking a more measured attack on the already wounded creature.
"Gorum's garters, here we go! I hope the Lord in Iron favors you as much as that Redeemer o' yours, Pyotr." "Leave Gorum for the warmongers. I need nothing from that one." "This one don't look like he's got any ears left to hear yer terms." "Good. I have no terms for one such as him." Pyotr launches himself at the flanking skeleton as Delkaneth's hammer flies by his shoulder, striking the damaged skeleton.
Under the mighty blow of Pyotr's hammer, the skeleton collapses in a pile of dust and bone shards. "Uh... not to drop a snake in yer bedroll, but that one was Agtharda's. Think she was tryin' to help. Or maybe that's how we get through? Bleedin' deaders..." Pyotr looks bewildered from Bonegrit's to Agtharda's face, then to each of the others, searching for an explanation. His confusion is interrupted as the sound of metal on stone heralds the sudden rising of the fanggate. “Who are these folk who come unbidden to disturb the solitude of my house and the rest of my soldiers? And why do they barge in, bearing the arms of peasants and masons, without even the courtesy of an introduction?” Pyotr ducks his head under the rising gate, stepping fully into the throne room. For the first time since joining the caravan, Pyotr disdains the opportunity to make introductions.
"That's got to be the wight that Navareene talked about. She said that it treated her fairly and let her pass after she... kissed it." "I suspect you are correct." "What in the Nine Hells?" Pyotr spins on the spot. he shouts, as he brings his warhammer down hard on the skeleton.
"Secure the bridge! There may be more!"
Pyotr watches carefully as Pellius' golden beam blasts one of the skeletons. His attention focused almost exclusively on the throne, and its swordbearer... He hardly notices the unusual sounds coming from behind him, as Agtharda begins her tongueless chanting and the orc bone shards reknit into animation.
With a tool in each hand and another between his teeth that he occasionally adds into the work, he shoots a quick look into the room as he works. "Not to offend your code, Pyotr......but can't Pellius just keep blasting them from out here while we stay safely on this side of the gate? Maybe not very noble, but that spell does seem pretty effective."At Del's suggestion, the magus nods, "Aye, I can continue blasting them but I don't I can reach the... king. Still, four less opponents does seem worth it? What do the rest of you think?" "The continued existence of these foul things offends me. Send them to oblivion while they scratch and claw from behind those bars. Fair fights are for the living." "And that anyone know who he was?" "That thing is dead. If you cannot reach it," Pyotr casts aside the shield gripping his warhammer with both hands, "then I shall."
Pyotr scrapes his boot to the edge, dragging a pile of bone shards and dust to the edge and over, into the water. "You said this creature is born of this detritus?" he asks Delkaneth. No sooner is the question out of his mouth, than Bonegrit is running past, shouting. Pellius is quickly on his heels, while Agtharda fishes through the remains, gathering bone shards. "Surely we have it cornered," he calls as he breaks into a trot in pursuit. He catches the pair at the Fangate. Pyotr looks at the razor-edged bars, turning to Delkaneth, "Care to try your hand at one of these locks?" He flexes his cut hand to smear blood on the bars.
Pyotr growls under his breath, as the skeletons move with their unholy animus. Leading with his shield, he charges the first guisarme wielding abomination, swinging his warhammer.
Pyotr spins his warhammer in a deft twist, balancing the weight carefully against the shield in his opposite hand. He beckons Alagor to step forward with him. "I will take the right, you the left. Let us create a wall of steel, if they attack. Use those vials on any group of the creatures. The waters will hit them all."
I did, and I always intended to reply! This has been the weirdest weekend (spilling over into Monday). Every time I glanced at the clock I was running late. Which is weird because I don't really have a "set schedule" for anything. Sorry for the posting infrequency and the delay in response to your PM.
"These do not seem like best and brightest. They just stand there - why don't we simply engage them from here? We have a few blunt arrows, Bonegrit's an excellent shot and you witch-crafters and warlocks might do your sorcery maybe also?" "Perhaps they are not even guardians... merely statues in this grotesquerie." Pyotr straps the glaive to his back, drawing his warhammer and shield. He draws two more vials of holy water and offers them to Delkaneth and Pellius. "Ready your bows. I will intercept them if they charge."
"Blade or bludgeon?" "That is my question, as well. These corpses, are they skeletal or fleshy?" Pyotr responds immediately to Bonegrit's response. "Beware the edges of the bridge."
Pyotr moves through the menacing overhang of the portcullis wary of his surroundings. He glances along the walls and ceilings for the telltale signs of murderholes and other menaces to the keeps invaders, ignoring the murmurings between Khozin and Alagor. Bonegrit moves in his loping crouch across the bridge without hesitation. Pyotr places his hand over the bell hanging from the glaive's hilt, and follows less certainly. At the edge of the bridge, he hesitates. "This keep is well designed to repel invaders." He gestures towards the drop-off where they were ambushed. He keeps his voice in a low growl to avoid spoiling Bonegrit's position. "We should not all expose ourselves on this bridge simultaneously. Shall we cross by pairs?"
Quotable Python... This could go on for a few pages... En älg en gång bet min syster ...: A moose once bit my sister...
Pyotr waits several moments for Bonegrit to get a sizable lead before following at a measured pace.
As for Pyotr; 'tis but a scratch.
Pyotr quickly waves off Delkaneth's offer of healing, pointing to the wounded Pellius. "I am fine," he says, though he continues to apply pressure to his hand. "See to Pellius. The ghouls were nearly as deadly to him as to you."
Pyotr stares into the darkness as far as his vision will allow. "Bonegrit and I can see in this darkness. But, he is much more skilled at sniffing out dangers than am I. And I would much prefer taking them unawares, rather than the reverse. Would you like the vanguard?" he asks the ranger. "Alagor and I will be close upon your heels should you find trouble."
"Hope the guardians beyond are a bit more accommodatin' than this lot, and let's hope the next door ain't locked any tighter." "I agree." Pyotr presses the wound on his hand. Flashes of the day he was captured and dragged to Lastwall pass through his mind. He sucks the wound, the same as he did as a child, and momentarily feels the same flash of fear. "At least there are no dogs..." he mutters to himself. Pyotr draws the wand and hands it to Delkaneth. "I had nearly forgotten this. Let us find out if the price we paid was worthwhile."
In the dim light, it is hard to see the deeper shade of green on Pyotr's cheeks. It is hidden even more effectively as he dons his helm, leaving only eyes exposed... eyes that do not seem to meet any others, even neglecting to scowl at the thief as he steps next to him. "Anywhere?" he queries the cleric as he reaches out his gauntlet-less hand. At Khozin's indication, he grasps one of the bars and watches as a small trail of blood leaks down the ridged surface. DM:
I am taking the Squire feat from Knights of the Inner Sea. I want my Combat Healer Squire to be useful in combat, without hogging too much of the spotlight from the other players. So, here's a rough draft of what I was thinking. Just looking for a critique on whether this will be useful or wasteful. Human Combat Healer, built with heroic NPC array: Str 10
Feats
Skills go primarily into Heal, Handle Animal, and Ride. The basic idea is to equip him with a heavy shield as his primary weapon, and then place him beside the character that is most heavily engaged or most vulnerable in combat. On his action, he will use Aid Another to grant a bonus to my or my ally's AC, and can use Saving Shield as an immediate action to give an additional bonus. His only real offense will be if he gets an AoO. Should be able to contribute without taking any of the limelight....
Pyotr dives for the rope after Khozin. The last ghoul collapsed under the barrage even as Pyotr repelled to the cavern floor. Khozin's power reduces Delkaneth's hemorrhage to a bloody gash. Pyotr claps the cleric on the back as it becomes clear that Del will survive the attack. Pyotr begins piecing together the scattered suit of mail, grimacing as he discovers several new dings from the impromptu fall. After several minutes work, he manages to tie down all the straps, and stands once again armored head to toe, the missing right gauntlet conspicuous by its absence. He straps the heavy shield across his back, and retrieves his glaive and a dagger. "A fine throw at that distance," he says as he returns the dagger to Agtharda. "Does it strike you as odd... this place, as a ghoul lair? There are no bones. No remnants of clothing or armor. I can not imagine a pack of ghouls that do not feed."
Yeah, that's all pretty much where I was having read the skill thoroughly, but never utilized it in more than a passing fashion in previous games. I guess my main question would be: Short term/Long term what would be the best use of my third level feat? Squire or Extra Lay on Hands? Long term, I would definitely say Squire. But, I have to keep in mind how long term the long term is... it might be another year before I see a positive return against the ELoH feat potential. That's not a complaint, by the way. I love the low-magic, slow advancement, heavy roleplay setup of the campaign!
Hmmm... It seems with our busy lives, the anniversary of our inaugural gameplay posts bade fair to pass unnoticed this past February... I'm sorry that this did not get more fanfare, as maintaining any game, especially a play-by-post, at a high level for a year and more is a feat of significance. With my schedule, this is the only gaming I get to participate in currently. So, it means a great deal to me to have a great game in which to play! I want to thank everyone for some really excellent roleplaying! I'm looking forward to the next year! =D
I am in a homebrew pbp campaign that is fairly low level (we've been playing over a year, and I anticipate reaching level 3 soon-ish), fairly low magic (there's one magical item and a few potions owned by the group, total), and fairly low combat (we've had several combat encounters, avoided several others). We are moving into the wilderness, away from most anything resembling "civilization", and don't have the wealth to stock up on major magical healing supplies, and not too long ago, our cleric dropped from the group... We are not completely bereft of healing, since I (paladin) have LoH. But, I was thinking of taking the Squire feat, from Knights of the Inner Sea, at level 3, and getting the Combat Healer Squire. This would give us some additional LoH's at next level (which if you read above, you'll realize could be a pretty long ways off), and would grant us a character with potentially very good Heal Skill (nobody else currently has any ranks). My questions are, in such a setting, how effective is the Heal Skill at keeping PC's on their feet? Has anyone ever used it as their primary source of healing? How quickly does it become useless, or so minimally useful as to be without merit? Do the Combat Healer's abilities merit the expense (a feat, plus equipment and healing kits)?
... Sliding Axe Throw... I have never seen this. Holy crap! That looks amazingly fun! I hope I get to see it in action.
Meh... He nearly died at the very start. He was tough for a while. Then they spent the majority of the movie running away. It wasn't until the very end that he started really kicking butt. That's kind of the way action movies always go, though. No run of bad luck can last forever... can it? We need to have some kind of plan in place, because I think Del has the wand of CLW, and Pyotr is all out of LoH's. Hopefully, we kill off this last ghoul quickly, and Del is able to make his stabilize roll on his own.
Pyotr can only watch in horror as the creature drops back to the cavern floor tearing Del's throat with its disease-ridden claws. "Help him, priest!" he shouts at Khozin. He pulls another vial of holy water from his pouch, throwing it at the undead monstrosity.
"Get down there," he urges the cleric. "I will be right behind you."
Ugh... Del... I always believe that in a long enough run, the luck factor balances out. Yours has been one of the worst I've ever seen on the boards. You should get a rapier, because you've got a loooong string of 18's coming your way! =) |